


IV. Ties That Bind

by sinfuldesire_archivist



Category: Supernatural
Genre: During Canon, Established Relationship, Kinks, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-08-13
Updated: 2006-08-13
Packaged: 2018-09-03 08:19:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8704822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinfuldesire_archivist/pseuds/sinfuldesire_archivist
Summary: Sam's restlessness gets to Dean. Fourth in the Trust Series.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the Sinful Desire archivists: this story was originally archived at [Sinful-Desire.org](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Sinful_Desire). To preserve the archive, we began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2016. We e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [Sinful Desire collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/sinfuldesire/profile).

**Title:** Ties That Bind - IV. Trust Series  
 **Author:** Shorts  
 **Pairings/Character:** Dean/Sam  
 **Rating:** NC17  
 **Category:** Slash  
 **Word Count:** 1820  
 **Spoilers:** None  
 **Note** Indulging myself again with the boys and their kinks. *g* Light on plot (squints in an attempt to spot it) and heavy on sex. Fourth in the Trust Series.

TIES THAT BIND  
By Shorts

"I'm sick of the car, Dean," complained Sam, fidgeting in the passenger seat.

Dean bit his tongue. They'd been going nonstop for over a week and they were both irritable. Neither of them had been sleeping worth a crap and it was starting to wear on them.

Sam crossed and uncrossed his legs, then bent forward to try and stretch his arms and shoulders, all the while sighing loudly. He would kill to have a chance to stretch out completely and work the kinks out of his back.

"Dude!" snapped Dean. "Can't you be still for more than two minutes? I swear, I'm going to hog tie you and throw you in the back seat."

"Is it too much to ask to find a motel before midnight?" asked Sam, banging his knees against the glove box. If looks could kill, Dean would have gone up in smoke.

Briefly flicking his sunglasses upward, Dean glared back at Sam. "Watch it."

"You love your car, I get it," ground out Sam. "But blood is thicker than oil, you know. The family that hunts together stays together . . ."

"The ties that bind," injected Dean.

Sam went back to fidgeting. Eventually he kicked off his shoes and stretched his legs along the front seat, placing his feet in Dean's lap.

Taking a deep breath, Dean started to count under his breath. "Unus . . . duo . . . tria . . . quatuor . . ."

"Are you counting in Latin?" asked Sam, wondering if he rolled down the window if he'd be able to get a decent stretch for his arms.

"I'm trying not to kill you," muttered Dean, his attention back on the road and squinting against the glare of the setting sun.

Sam made a face and went back to trying to find a comfortable position. "Very funny."

"Who's joking?"

*

Dean turned the lights on and scanned the room, while Sam dropped his bag and threw himself onto the bed. "Ahhh, much better."

Closing the door, Dean walked across the room and ducked his head into the bathroom, assuring himself that the place was half way secure. "Not much, but then what else is new." He turned toward Sam and snorted. His brother was already sleeping, an arm and leg hanging over the side of the bed. He locked the door and checked the window before turning in. Pausing, he looked over the beds and a grin blossomed as he started to undress.

*

Sam twitched, barely aware of the light touch along his side. Before he could slip back down to sleep, the touch repeated itself. Frowning, he tried to brush away whatever was tickling him and came up short. Immediately he was wide awake, discovering his arms stretched over his head and securely tied to the slats of the headboard. "What the hell? Dean!"

"No need to yell," said Dean. "I'm right here." He reached out and skimmed the tips of his fingers down Sam's side again.

Twisting, Sam looked over his shoulder at his brother sitting on the opposite bed. "I can't believe you tied me up while I was sleeping!" 

"Sleeping pretty hard, too," smirked Dean, patting Sam on the ass as he moved to sit beside him. "You didn't even take the time to undress before you took a nose dive into your pillow."

It was then Sam realized he had also slept through Dean undressing him. Groaning, he dropped his head down, burying his face into the pillow.

Grinning, Dean trailed his hand from Sam's neck to the back of his thighs, enjoying the involuntary twitches his touch invoked. Humming, he slipped his hand between Sam's thighs and stroked the soft inner skin there. 

Sam clamped his legs together, trapping Dean's hand.

Undeterred, Dean used his other hand to run his finger between the clenching cheeks.

Gasping, Sam squirmed, caught between trying to escape the too light touch and trying to push into it. "Dean . . . "

"Don't go getting your knickers into a twist," chuckled Dean. "Oh, that's right. You aren't wearing any." He stood, snagging the items he had placed on the other bed.

Struggling against the ties around his wrists, Sam started to scoot up the bed.

"No, you don't," said Dean, climbing back on the bed and tugging him back. He maneuvered himself between Sam's legs, forcing them apart.

Sam shivered as Dean's hands caressed his body.

"Remember your word?" asked Dean, stilling his hands.

Sam nodded.

"Say it," ordered Dean, refusing to continue.

" _Miserere,_ " said Sam.

"That's my boy," grinned Dean, popping open the lid to the lubricant. Using the palm of his hand, he pushed against Sam's left cheek, exposing his center.

Sam jerked as the cold drizzle of gel landed on him. "Damn it, Dean, couldn't you have at least warmed it up?"

"My game, my rules," snickered Dean, watching the skin pucker tightly around Sam's opening. Using the pad of his finger, he rubbed the slick gel around before inserting his finger inside.

Sam balled his hands into fists when Dean unerringly found his sweet spot and he grounded his hips into the mattress.

Removing his hand, Dean snagged a pillow beside Sam. Leaning forward, he slipped his hands beneath Sam and lifted, stuffing the pillow underneath him. "Just to make things a little more comfortable."

"Oh, yeah? Whose comfort would that be?" asked Sam, feeling awkward. It also kept him from pressing down into the mattress. 

"Depends on your perspective," answered Dean, settling back. Reaching between Sam's legs, he fondled him to weeping hardness, then carefully wound a leather boot string in a makeshift cock ring.

"Don't . . . ," begged Sam, feeling the leather binding him.

Dean paused and waited, but Sam didn't use his safe word. Satisfied that Sam wouldn't be coming until he wanted him to, he picked up the surprise he had for him.

Sam felt something press against him, then slowly slide inside, stretching him. Using his elbows he tried to twist around to see what Dean was doing, but Dean pressed him back down with the flat of his hand between his shoulder blades. Whatever it was, it was slightly bigger than two fingers and definitely artificial. "What . . . ?"

"Do you remember that chick I hooked up with in Shreveport when we passed through?" asked Dean, moving his hand back and forth.

Swallowing from the sensation of being fucked slowly by god knows what, Sam furrowed his brow. "The . . . the one that looked like a Gothic throw back?"

"Yeah!" grinned Dean. "Well, she introduced me to this and thought you'd benefit from it, too." So saying, Dean turned on the vibrator.

"Jeezus!" shouted Sam, straining against the bonds holding him. His hips bucked as Dean continued to slide the vibrator in and out.

"Nice, isn't it?" chuckled Dean, his own cock throbbing at the sight of Sam practically losing it. He angled the vibrator and was rewarded with Sam's groan rising to a much higher pitch.

Sam's breathing started to hitch at the acute stimulation pressing against his prostate. His cock wept, denied the relief of his orgasm. He was about to utter his safe word when Dean switched off the vibrator and slowly withdrew it.

"Breathe, Sammy," said Dean, soothing him with his hands. He started at his shoulders and worked down, releasing the tension that had knotted muscles from his straining.

Catching his breath, Sam slumped over the pillow Dean had placed there. 

"Pretty intense, huh?" asked Dean, tearing open the condom packet. He added more gel to himself, and scooted closer, lining himself up to Sam's twitching center.

Sam grunted, his head still spinning from the phantom sensation. He inhaled sharply as Dean pressed forward. Sensitive nerve endings trembled at the slightly rough surface sliding into him.

"Tell me, Sam," said Dean, leaning over Sam's back and nipping his earlobe. "They say the ribbed are more pleasurable, are they?"

Biting his lower lip, Sam hid his face against his upper arm, but he couldn't withhold the deep groan that passed his lips. Dean was bigger than the vibrator and he was stretched further, muscles and nerve endings, now highly sensitive, trembled at the intrusion.

Dean wrapped his arms around Sam and nuzzled his neck. Sinking completely into him, the play of Sam's inner muscles gripped and released him. He intended to drag this out as long as possible, and started to slide in and out, gradually picking up speed and force.

Pleasure bordered on agony, as Sam strained to come, but couldn't. He was forbidden release by the leather wound tightly at the base of his cock and balls.

Dean eased back, denying himself from coming.

"Dean . . . ple . . . please," stuttered Sam.

"What, Sam?" asked Dean, not breaking his slow slide in and out. He skated his hand around Sam's hip and rubbed the pad of his thumb over the weeping slit of Sam's cock.

"I need . . . ," started Sam, but choked as Dean played with him. 

"You're feeling pretty hard there, Sammy," teased Dean, wrapping his hand around Sam's cock.

"Please, Dean," begged Sam. He tried to buck his hips forward into Dean's fist and back to impale himself on Dean's cock, but the damn pillow limited his movements. 

Angling his hips, Dean slid over Sam's already over worked prostate.

"Shit! Dean!" sobbed Sam. "I can't . . ."

Knowing Sam had almost reached his limit, Dean slipped both hands around the leather bootlace and worked it loose. The moment Sam was free of the restraint, he shoved hard into Sam, thrusting fast and deep.

Jerking against the ties around his wrists, Sam bucked as Dean pounded into him.

Gripping Sam with one hand on his hip, Dean fisted his cock with the other. Two strokes and Sam pulsed over his fist.

Arching at the sweet gratification of release, Sam screamed silently as his orgasm shattered him into a million pieces.

Dean leaned forward, his head bent, as he continued to thrust inside quivering muscles. The moment Sam slumped back down, he relaxed his control and came, shaking as his climax sent waves of pleasure rippling through him.

Sam panted as Dean collapsed on top of him, making it harder for him to breathe.

Gradually, their heart rates slowed, and Dean softened, slipping out of Sam. Forcing himself to sit up, he tossed the used condom into the trash basket and fumbled for the pocket knife on the nightstand, freeing Sam's wrists.

Sam rolled onto his back, rubbing the red marks on his wrists. "That was. . . ."

"Yeah, I know," said Dean, tugging Sam close.

"This sure as hell beats sleeping in a tin can," sighed Sam, snuggling against Dean with his head on his shoulder.

"Don't go insulting my car," threatened Dean.

"Wouldn't dream of it," yawned Sam, his backside still thrumming in response to Dean's unexpected surprise. "But you have to admit, we couldn't have done this if we were in your car."

"Wanna bet?" asked Dean, feeling Sam suddenly twitch against him.


End file.
